


Strawberries and Other Stories

by theladyscribe



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Friendship, Spyjinks, Tumblr Ask Box Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-30
Updated: 2014-02-13
Packaged: 2017-12-30 22:03:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 4,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1023908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theladyscribe/pseuds/theladyscribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy/Steve stories based on prompts from tumblr. All of these are Darcy/Steve or Darcy & Steve friendship fic, though other characters and pairings may make appearances.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Strawberries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From nessismore's prompt: "Steve/Darcy, strawberry picking."

"You know what I love about strawberries?" Darcy says, flexing her fingers over the bowl on the counter.

"No," Steve answers, trying not to stare too long at any one part of her (her fingers, long and delicate, the low cut of her shirt as she leans over the counter, the wicked curve of her lips). He looks up, catches her eye, which glints with humor.

"I love the way you can tell before you even bite whether you’ve got a sweet one or a tart one."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." He watches her select a berry, and she holds it up, practically shoves it in his face. "Smell."

He dutifully takes a sniff, tries not to think about how close her fingers are, how he could just reach out and take a bite of that berry and lick the juice from her fingers. He might lick his lips.

"You smell it?" she asks, pulling the berry back and inhaling herself. "Think it’s gonna be a good one."

Darcy takes a bite, and good _god_ , he’s never seen someone eat a piece of fruit with such obvious pleasure. She lets out a little moan, and the next thing Steve knows, the berry’s back in his face, bite taken out and all.

"Taste it, Steve."

He does.


	2. Puppies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From lilacsilver's prompt: "Steve/Darcy, puppies. I don't think it gets much fluffier than that."

This is not exactly what Darcy had in mind when she blew out her birthday candles, but she supposes that Asgardian birthday candles aren’t so great at translating idioms. Which is why she currently has in her possession adorable puppy Steve Rogers instead of adorable Steve Rogers who she’d like to pet like a puppy.

She’s really thankful that she didn’t voice the wish that Steve would just lay her out over the kitchen table in front of god and everyone, because that would be even more embarrassing than the current scenario.

(The current scenario involves Clint in tears because he’s laughing so hard, Thor apologizing profusely for the overly literal capabilities of the candles, and Tony taking video of the entire fiasco.)

If Darcy could melt into the floor right now, she totally would.


	3. Alpine Adventures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> typhoidmeri asked: Steve/Darcy: Tony takes the Avengers and assorted extras skiing. Darcy falls and twists her ankle badly, Steve feels bad and they spend the rest of the day by the fire drinking cocoa and flirting. // This one kind of got away from me, but it makes me giggle.

It is just her luck that Darcy managed to break her ankle two days before the “First Annual Avengers Alpine Adventure” (official title courtesy of Stark, of course). She is most definitely not looking forward to a week of sitting in the lodge while everyone else skis the Matterhorn.

Well, she’s not looking forward to it until she realizes that the lodge is where all of the hot French Swiss boys come to get out of the cold. Once she starts noticing Jean Pierre and Claude and Gustav, she starts plotting out ways to make sure they notice her back. This is most easily achieved by setting up on one of the chaise longues by the fire: she has a stellar view of the rest of the lodge, it’s cozy, and the fire is warm enough that she has an excuse to shed some layers and show off some assets.

It works. Within two hours of formulating and implementing this plan, Darcy has Andreas fetching her cocoa, Martin massaging her good foot, and Jean-Louis asking if she needs assistance back to her villa. She’s about to accept his offer when a commotion at the main entrance distracts her.

Steve and Clint are coming in the door, Clint confident in his snowboard boots, Steve hilariously uncoordinated in his ski boots. They’re stopped by the concierge, who makes them trade in their boots for their regular shoes. They haven’t noticed Darcy and her entourage yet, for which she’s thankful; Steve has a tendency to be weird around her, especially when there are non-Avenger males in the vicinity.

She thinks that maybe they won’t see her, but then Clint catches her eye and gives her an evil grin. “Hey, Darcy, who’re your friends?” he practically shouts across the room.

Steve looks up sharply, and his face goes studiously blank at the sight of Darcy and her new companions. It’s the same blank look he always gets around her, like he finds her entirely too pedestrian to hang out with the Avengers. She tries not to let it bother her most of the time, but sometimes — like today — it just pisses her off.

"Zese are your boyfrienze?" Jean-Louis queries beside her.

Darcy rolls her eyes. “No. Just annoyances.” She projects so they hear her; Clint smirks and Steve trades his blank look for a glower. It doesn’t stop them from making their way across the lodge to them.

"Hiya, Darce," Clint says. He nods at Martin and Jean-Louis. "I see you’ve conquered the Swiss Alps."

She preens a bit at that. “Clinton, meet my new friends. Jean-Louis and Martin, and Andreas should be coming along with the cocoa any minute. We’re going to play Ambigu. Care to join us?”

Clint lets out a laugh at the same time Steve says, “I haven’t played Ambigu in _years_.”

"You know zee game?" Jean-Louis asks, looking elated that an American actually knows how to play (he’d assured Darcy it was easy to learn; she had assumed it was something he’d made up to get in her pants).

Steve smiles. “Yeah. It’s been a long time, so you’ll have to remind me of the rules, but I’d like to play.”

Jean-Louis beams back at him, and Darcy’s gonna have to rethink her earlier assessment of what she took as a come-on, because that’s not the sort of look you give just anyone. “We would be happy to remind you,” he says. “I will go to get zee deck.” He stands swiftly, and practically skips out the lodge.


	4. Alpine Adventures Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second half of Alpine Adventures, because I couldn't leave it hanging like that!

Darcy always forgets how terrible she is at card games, and it turns out that Ambigu is no exception. She’s down to the last pair of her chips, and Steve — goddamn _Steve_ , with his blank poker face and excellent shuffling skills — has stacks of them. She usually tries to make light of her terribleness, but her ankle’s starting to hurt again and Jean-Louis seems to be flirting _with Steve and not her_ , and everything is starting to make her surly.

Steve deals out the next hand, and Darcy doesn’t even look at her cards before she slaps down her chips and snaps, “All in.”

The boys all glance at her wordlessly, and she’ll be embarrassed about it later, but right now, she doesn’t care. They each put in their chips, deal out the second round of cards, and Steve calls, because of course he does. They show their cards, and — shocker — Darcy’s lost. Again.

She huffs, flustered, as Martin rakes in his winnings. “Excuse me,” she says, and she makes to get off the couch, grabbing at her crutches (stupid, European crutches that make her feel wobbly and uncoordinated, even though the doctor insisted they were better than the American under-arm ones). She overbalances and pitches sideways, crashing her (good) hip into the coffee table and knocking Steve’s poker chips into the floor when she puts a hand out to catch herself. Steve has a hand on her waist, steadying her or keeping her out of his lap, one, and it just makes her angrier that she can’t even stand up on her own.

She should help pick up the chips, but right now she just needs to get away.

"Darcy —" Steve starts, but she whirls on him.

"Don’t, Steve. Just, don’t." She turns and hobbles away, as dignified as she can, given the circumstances.

She’s sitting at the bar when Steve comes up beside her. “Darcy —” he starts, but she cuts him off.

“ _Captain_ , I think I asked you not to.”

It’s his turn to let out a frustrated huff. “Fine. I’ll just go then.”

She shrugs. “See that you do.”

*

Jane and Thor find her nursing her second beer about an hour later. Darcy’s had enough time to herself for the anger to subside into a combination of annoyance and embarrassment. She knows that eventually she’ll have to apologize to Steve, but right now, she just wants to hear Thor’s recounting of his conquering of the slopes.

He’s gathered an audience, and Jane moves closer to Darcy. “You know why Steve looks like someone kicked his puppy?” she asks.

Darcy ducks her head. “We played cards with some of the locals. It didn’t end well.”

Jane raises an eyebrow; she has seen Darcy’s card-playing.

Darcy smiles tightly. “Yeah.” She kicks at the bar with her good foot.

"You gonna—"

"Yeah, yeah." Darcy waves her off. "You know where he is?"

"Reading by the fireplace, I think."

Darcy looks over Jane’s shoulder. Sure enough, Steve’s got a book in his lap, but it looks like he may be drawing, not reading. He does look upset, though, and that makes her feel guilty.

"I guess I should…" She flaps a hand in his direction.

She makes her way over and flops ungracefully into the chair beside him. He startles a little, glances up, and pulls his notebook to his chest.

"Darcy." His voice is distant, as blank as his face usually is.

"Steve. I’m bad at cards. And I’m even worse at losing."

He coughs politely.

"Anyway, I just —"

"I didn’t like that they were flirting with you. Jean-Louis and Martin." Darcy blinks at him, watching his face redden. "I mean, they had every right to — if you wanted them to flirt with — that is. I shouldn’t have interrupted."

"What? You — what?" Darcy can feel her own face going red, can feel this conversation spinning out of her control rapidly.

He lets out a frustrated noise. “I—I suppose I was jealous,” he admits.

Darcy frowns. “You hardly speak two words to me. I thought you hated me.”

He looks down at his lap. “I’m terrible with women.”

"You talk to Natasha. And Pepper. And Jane."

Steve shrugs uncomfortably. “I like you,” he whispers so low Darcy almost misses it.

"Oh." She doesn’t know what else to say.


	5. The Spy Who Loved Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From noquirkyurl's prompt: Beach, Bikini, Beer.

They are on a mission. Darcy has to keep reminding herself of this, because otherwise it’s just too easy to think that she and Steve really _are_ on their first weekend getaway together. It’s been shockingly (almost embarrassingly) easy to stay in character as the head-over-heels new couple.

It’s just a mission, and once they’ve gotten eyes on Remonte’s contact list, they’ll be leaving Jamaica’s beautiful resorts — and their fake relationship — behind.

Still, it doesn’t mean she can’t enjoy the façade while it lasts. Especially when it includes Steve in glorified boxer-briefs, swimming laps in the pool while she alternates between watching him and befriending Remonte’s wife. A girl could most certainly get used to this.

"Your husband?" Mrs. Remonte inquires, nodding toward Steve.

Darcy smiles. “Not yet. We’ve only been together a few months.”

Mrs. Remonte smiles back, but her eyes turn distant. “Sometimes that’s all the time it takes to know.”

"Have you been married long?" Darcy asks, already knowing the answer (ten years and some change, no known infidelities on either side, no indication whether Madame Remonte knows about her husband’s sources of income, but functioning under the assumption she is complicit).

"Twelve years next spring. We never had children, though not for lack of trying."

Darcy nods. “I’d like to try for children someday,” she admits. “But maybe not just yet.”

Mrs. Remonte’s smile turns sad. “We considered adoption, but my husband’s work involves quite a bit of travel.”

"Steve’s job is the same way. It seems unfair to have kids only to keep uprooting them or sending them off to school somewhere." Darcy pauses. "Not that he and I will, but—"

"It’s a thing you consider when you are so deeply in love." Mrs. Remonte reaches a hand out and pats Darcy’s reassuringly. "I saw the way he looked at you at the cocktail last night. It would not surprise me to find he has the same thoughts." She pulls her hand away and looks over Darcy’s shoulder.

Darcy turns and gets an eyefull of Steve pulling himself out of the pool, shorts clinging to his thighs and torso dripping with water. He gives both of them a wide grin and tosses his head before padding over to the bar. He nods at Mrs. Remonte and leans over Darcy to give her a slightly wet kiss. It’s mostly chaste, but she darts her tongue out to taste the saline water of the pool on his lips.

He pulls away and says, “Hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”

"Not at all," Mrs. Remonte says. "I was just leaving."


	6. The Wedding Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From star-spangled-spooky's prompt: Darcy/Steve wedding.

Tony and Pepper’s wedding is an all-out shindig of the outrageous sort only the truly wealthy are capable of. All of the Avengers and their assorted hangers-on are there, there’s a five-course dinner after the ceremony, and the dancing is expected to last well into the night.

Darcy finds the whole thing a little overwhelming, but she’s thrilled for her bosses and delighted for the opportunity to wear a fabulous dress.

What she wasn’t expecting, though, was Tony’s insistence on adhering to tradition. She can accept a bouquet toss, and even a garter toss, but what has her utterly mortified is the part where she’s currently sitting on a chair in front of a red-faced Captain America, who is holding the previously mentioned garter. If she could crawl into a hole and die of embarrassment right now, she would.

If it were anyone but Steve, she’d crack a joke right now about lying back and thinking of England, but she’s had a huge raging crush on him since forever, and now he’s about to get up close and personal with her thighs and all she can really think about is how she kind of didn’t bother to shave above her knees today.

For Steve’s part, he’s holding the garter like it might bite him and looking everywhere except at her, eyes darting every which way like he’s hunting for an escape.

"Come _on_ , Capsicle, we’re _waiting_ ,” Tony calls, and Steve swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing.

He takes Darcy’s right ankle in hand and pulls off her shoe. She’s vaguely glad she _did_ take the time to have her nails done and tries not to twitch too much when Steve brushes the sensitive underside of her foot. He slides the garter upward, keeping his eyes up and making sure her dress doesn’t ride up too much. When he finally reaches the middle of her thigh, he swallows hard again, slips his fingers out from under the elastic, and moves back quickly.

He stands and — ever the gentleman — offers a hand to Darcy. She takes it, and he pulls her to her feet amid the slightly drunken cheers from their friends.

"That wasn’t so bad," she mumbles, and Steve turns sharply toward her.

"You could have told me no," he says, voice unexpectedly harsh. "It’s just a stupid game."

The party surges around them, people moving out to the dance floor, and before she knows it, Steve’s turned on his heel, shoulders hunched as he walks away.

"I got it on video!" Jane yells in her ear. "Your faces!"

Darcy turns and smiles, but makes quick work of disappearing in the crowd. She runs into Sam on the outskirts of the dance floor. “Did you see where Steve went?” she half-shouts at him.

He nods toward the balcony.

"Thanks!"

She finds Steve staring out at the city, shoulders still hunched up to his ears. He doesn’t turn around even though she knows he can hear the click of her heels on the stone. She comes to stand next to him, and he flinches away ever so slightly.

"I didn’t mean to upset you," she says after she’s sure he’s not going to just up and leave. He doesn’t answer, so she continues. "I just. It’s a stupid tradition."

He grunts noncommittally.

"I mean, it’s embarrassing to begin with," she starts, trying to fill the silence with words. "I didn’t even want to catch the bouquet, but Jane took out Kate with an elbow, and there it was, right in my face. I caught it out of reflex, mostly. I didn’t even realize there was going to be a garter toss, or I’d have let the stupid thing drop. And then you caught the garter, and Tony started up his catcalls, and we had to go through that in front of everyone, and oh my god I didn’t even shave today— and I don’t know why I’m saying all this since you were right there, too, obviously."

She’s expecting him to walk away, because good god, she’s just making things worse with her babbling, and she can see his hands clenching and unclenching on the balustrade. She’s thinking about excusing herself, or maybe throwing herself off the balcony, when he finally speaks.

"Did you ever think," he says, voice measured, like he’s trying to shore up his words, "that maybe I intended to catch the garter?"

The answer, of course, is no she most certainly did _not_ , because if she had, there might have been a real show on the dance floor. What she says out loud is the ever-eloquent, “What?”

Steve shoves his hands in his pockets and hunches his shoulders even more. “After you caught the bouquet, I decided I’d catch the garter.”

It’s hard to tell in the dim light, but she’s pretty sure he’s blushing again. She tries to form words, but this new information has rendered her utterly speechless.

"I guess I shouldn’t’ve," he says quietly.

He starts to turn away, maybe to go back inside, but Darcy grabs his arm and without thinking, leans up to kiss him. He gasps against her lips, but that only lets her deepen the kiss, and then he’s finally caught on and kissing back.

When they finally pull away from each other, he murmurs in her ear, “I kind of liked that you didn’t shave.” It startles a laugh out of her, and she can feel his smile against her cheek.


	7. Study Group

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merideath prompted: Steve/Darcy, high school or college AU. Studying.

Steve hates study groups. Like, whoever-invented-them-should-be-shot kind of hates them. They’re stupid, they’re a total waste of time, and they never actually accomplish anything.

But right now, he is seriously reconsidering his feelings on study groups, because Darcy Lewis is saying, “We’re going to go over the essay questions for Coulson’s class. Meeting in the Wesley Annex tomorrow night at eight. You wanna come?”

"I, uh, yeah," he stammers, and Darcy Lewis _grins_ back at him.

"Great! See you then."

All he can really do is nod, feeling like the world’s falling out from under him. _Darcy Lewis_ just asked him to join her study group.

*

The next night, he gets to the library annex early, and of course there’s nobody there yet. He feels kind of stupid, because he’s the first one there, and because he knows it’s going to be obvious that he’s only there because Darcy asked him, and he’s been head over heels for her since the first time he ever saw her.

(She was walking across campus with a couple girlfriends the first week of classes. Steve was walking in the opposite direction until he saw her, tripped over his own feet, and practically face-planted right in front of her.

"Oh my god are you okay?" she’d said and helped him pick up his notebook and the drawing pencils he’d dropped.

"Fine, I’m fine," he’d muttered, trying not to let her see how he’d scraped his hands, let alone completely destroyed his dignity.)

He’s about to leave, because clearly this study group had been a stupid idea, but a voice behind him says, “You’re here already!”

He turns, and it’s Darcy, smiling up at him. “I, uh, yeah,” he answers, scratching his hair.

She shakes her head. “Someday, I’m gonna get you to say full sentences, Rogers.”

"Hmmm," he says, and she laughs, loud and clear.


	8. Study Abroad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set in the same universe as "Study Group." From Aenaria's prompt: Steve/Darcy, college AU, studying abroad, just don't have them go their separate ways at the end of it ;)

Steve applied for the program in France because it seemed like the thing to do at the time. He nearly forgot about it, what with this new thing with Darcy (and doesn’t _that_ still seem like a dream).

But Bucky just brought in the mail, and there’s a large blue packet with his name and the Sorbonne’s logo on it.

He opens it with shaking hands, already knowing what the answer is and not entirely sure he likes it. Bucky sits next to him without saying a word, scanning the letter even though he can’t read a lick of French.

"So?" Buck says after Steve lets the letter drop into his lap.

"A year in France." His stomach leaps at the thought, excitement and terror mixed. "How am I gonna tell Darcy?"

"I suggest you say, ‘Darcy, I’ve been accepted to a year abroad at the Sorbonne to study art, and if I don’t go, I’ll regret it the rest of my life.’ Short, sweet, to the point."

Steve scowls at Bucky. “And when she decides we should break up because of it?”

Bucky shrugs. “Her loss. Especially since you can invite her to Paris for spring break.”

*

Steve is so nervous at dinner that night, he’s a little amazed he hasn’t broken into hives. He knows Darcy can tell something’s wrong, but beyond giving him a concerned frown, she hasn’t said anything about the way he can’t sit still.

On their way back to her dorm, she loops her arm around his and says, “What’s up, Steve?”

He takes a deep breath. “Before we met,” he starts. “Well, no, before we started dating, I guess—I did something.” He stops walking, unhooks their arms so he can wrap his arms around himself.

"Steve? You’re kind of freaking me out here."

Steve looks away from her. “I got into the Sorbonne,” he says, sotto voce. “It’s a year-long program, and I understand if you want to break up with me, because we’ve not been dating that long, and a year is a long time, and Paris is a long way away.” The words come out in a rush, and he feels like he could puke, because he doesn’t want to break up with Darcy _at all_ , but—

"Steve, that’s _fantastic_ ,” Darcy says, cutting off his thoughts.

He turns to look at her sharply. “It is?”

She’s grinning. “You got into the Sorbonne! Why aren’t we shouting this from the rooftops?”

"But what about the distance? And the time?"

Darcy waves a hand and moves toward him, tugging on his arms until he opens them. “We’ll deal with that when we deal with it,” she says, all smooth confidence. “For now, let’s celebrate.”


	9. The Villain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For girlchama's prompt: AU or otherwise -- Darcy's the villain.

It wasn’t supposed to go this way. For one thing, Darcy wasn’t supposed to fall in love with him. For another, she wasn’t supposed to survive the confrontation with SHIELD.

But survive she did, and so here she was, handcuffed to a hospital bed, the steady beep of the heart monitor her constant companion. Nurses, doctors, and interrogators alike were in and out of her room, asking questions ( _how are you feeling today?_ and _does this hurt when you move it?_ and _what can you tell us about AIM?_ ) and giving her no answers of their own.

Of course, she didn’t ask the question she really wanted to. She doubted Steve would ever want to see her again, let alone speak to her.

Which was why she was surprised to find him sitting in the chair by her bed, mouth drawn in a sour line.

She wasn’t sure what she should say (how did you say hello to the person you tried to kill?), so she didn’t say anything, waiting instead for him to speak.

"Why did you do it?" he asked, no softness, no warmth to his voice.

"We want to create a better world," Darcy recited. "That meant destroying the old one."

"And killing innocent people?" His words were sharp, which made it easier to snipe back.

"How innocent _is_ SHIELD, Steve? How innocent, really? You won’t have to dig too hard to find its own lies.”

"And you? Is everything—was everything a lie?" Steve’s eyes were intent upon her, searching, though what answer he wanted Darcy couldn’t say.

Darcy closed her eyes and turned away from him. “It would be easier if it had been.”


End file.
